


In Search of the Unknown Episode 6

by KennyF7



Series: In search of the unknown episodes [6]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennyF7/pseuds/KennyF7
Series: In search of the unknown episodes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100765





	In Search of the Unknown Episode 6

The group had been traveling for a few hours. Though they lived in upper Georgia and weren’t far from the Tennessee border, it was very difficult to find New Byzantium. The road there was weird and twisting. It now made more sense to Dalen why she said the town seemed so isolating.  
It was years since the time she said the event occurred, and the town had certainly changed once they arrived. It seemed in better condition. It had new stores and businesses, and the town had developed.  
Though they just wanted to get footage for a follow-up, Dalen did decide to see if he could contact Emma Raisend. He didn’t think she still lived there but contacting her could give some details on things.  
Dalen did find her online. He talked to her and told her who he was. She seemed like she was willing to talk and be interviewed. She heard of the small documentary series but was a bit bothered that they found her statement. She never gave it to them and whoever did she knew of, but she was less inclined to talk about him.  
What surprised Dalen the most was that she still lived in New Byzantium. It was astonishing to think she continued to live in a town she said she hated so much. He wondered what had changed.  
Emma gave them the address of her house and the time they could meet tomorrow. They filmed in the older parts of the town, which were more like how Emma described. After got as much footage they needed, Trevor decided that there was more time to kill. Trevor wanted to do something; he just didn't know where to go. They did find a place to eat, but it wasn't dinner time yet, so they had to find something to do.  
While they were driving by, David saw something that caught his eye. It was a small antique store. The store was very much out of the way compared to everything else. Something about it seemed off, it seemed almost tilted, and the windows seemed warped, contorting whatever shapes were inside. Trevor was against taking souvenirs into the small car they drove, but he was ok with just looking at it.  
They entered the store, the customer bell rings, signaling the shop owners to their presence. The shopkeeper was short and old. He was gaunt and wore a wife beater that almost hanged off him, and he had a wide smile. A smile that was too wide for his face.  
No one noticed that though. The image of the man went away every time their attention parted. They were none the wiser to him, he may as well be a voice and nothing else. Maybe he was.  
Trevor looked around a look of indifference painted across his face and demeanor. He felt content, and he had town anything would catch his interest.  
Dalen was interested in these old trinkets. Each trinket held a certain history and life to it, they pulled him in like a magnet. The store was small and packed with stuff, and Dalen made sure to see all of it. Time ticked away. He found something he was interested in. It was an old video game, specifically made for a PC before the digital made it that CD games for PCs were less convenient. It didn't have any pictures on the back. It most importantly barely had any descriptions of it. No reviews, no age ratings, it only had its title. Its title was simple and ominous  
“Clench”.  
Dalen didn’t know why, but the title itself brought him to buy it. It had to be horror with such a haunting title. It made his skin crawled and his curiosity attracted him like a fish to the lure of an anglerfish. Dalen bought the game and stared at it with intensity.

What David looked around for was a book to read. There were a lot of books, but most were old encyclopedias and Almanacs. He wanted to find a good novel or some fiction. He looked tentatively for one, but he only found two he was interested in. One was named "The Retaliation of the Stalwart Sparrow", the book seemed bizarre and nonsensical. Its cover filled with twisting green vines and an Orange background, the sparrow had its wings out as if showing its power. He was interested in what this book entails, its story, and the reason for such a title. When he showed it to the Shopkeeper, the old thing smiled with a grin so wide it left his mouth.  
"That book is a great read, it tugs at the heart so hard, it rips it out, or so I've heard" The thing gleefully said.  
The other book David looked at was not a book of fiction, it was more than that. This book carried the weight of many. It had a beautiful tinge of gravity to it. It was venerated as a religious text by a certain group. The group called The Church of the Great Lord. In the report on the pastor's death, it was reported that this book was found in the wreckage. The book was called "The Book of the Untold" its author's name was Ishmael Davidson, the Christian offshoot's founder. David was astounded to find it, in this store of all places. He wondered was this sacred text told off. What was Lost Carcossa?  
Those two books would leave with David.  
Trevor did find something. It was a small doll. It had long arms and legs with a hat and warm smile and uncaring eyes that became eerier with how aged the doll was. For some odd reason, Trevor gained entertainment from the Doll's inherent creepiness. He also found it funny how disturbed the rest were to this cloth doll. So, he bought it as a paperweight and decoration.  
So, they bought these items from this offbeat antique store. After they left, they forgot where that place was, and they would never return.  
Dalen would play the game all night on his laptop, and David read the Book of the Untold for a few hours after midnight. Trevor unlike the rest slept quite soundly.  
The next day they went to go see Emma. She lived in a newly developed apartment building. The building was small, reaching only two stories. It could easily be confused with a motel.  
David got his camera. Trevor got the mic. Since they lacked more hands, Dalen would have to help with other stuff. He could still ask questions off-camera though. The air was cold, and it stung their lungs when they took a deep breath. They climbed up the stairs, the equipment heavy on their backs. They came to the door, and Dalen gave an unsure not on the door. Barking came from the other side in response. The door opened. A dog quickly tried to escape under them but was caught and picked up by Emma Raisend. She was blond with her hair tied in a disgruntled bun. She was wearing casual clothes, which made Dalen wonder if Emma didn't expect them to come to talk. Maybe it seemed too good to be true. She wore glasses that were a bit bulky.  
She stared a bit in silence until she put together the situation.  
“Oh right. Heyyyy” her demeanor a bit stiff “Come inside”.  
They entered one by one, Emma's Jack Russel pushing off her to sniff each one as they enter. They each strolled in. Her apartment wasn't dirty but wasn't ready for their arrival. She went to the kitchen yelling at them from the living room.  
“Does anyone want a drink!”

Dalen asks for some water, Trevor a soda, and David had some tea. Emma gathered a few Chairs for them to sit down. They set up how they were going to do the interview, and after had a break with their drinks.  
The interview started  
Emma: Hello my name is Emma Raisend, I am from New Byzantium, Tennessee  
Dalen: Hi Emma, my name is Dalen Reynolds, it's nice to meet you after… reading you're experienced  
Emma: … Can I ask a quick question before we begin?  
Dalen: Yeah certainly  
Emma: Well, I just want to know how you got that Email, I never sent that to you?  
Dalen: That’s… a good question, we received it at the request of a supporter  
Emma: Oh, I just… I never thought he would show that to anyone else  
Trevor: Wait, who?  
Emma: About a year after the… incident, someone came to me while I was at college, he was middle-aged, but it was hard to tell with the raspy voice he had. He asked me about what happened, and I decided to send an email telling him everything that happened.  
Dalen: Why did you tell him, and no one else?  
Emma: I was affected by what happened, I mean I still am I just really wanted to tell someone, and I never could. And I just had this feeling that he would believe me. We talked for a few days, mostly in person. He usually asked to meet at a lake close by.  
Dalen: Do you remember what he asked you?  
Emma: He asked me a lot, most of it was about my pastor, John Obed. Even asking about how I knew him, where I thought he lived, how much Obed talked about himself, and whether Obed talked with anyone outside of town. I couldn't answer most of his questions. Our pastor barely talked about his life before, and I was taught not to ask personal stuff like that.  
Dalen: Do you have any idea who the man asked you is?  
Emma: …No  
Dalen stays silent and thinks.  
Dalen: Is there anything else that happened that is out of the ordinary.  
Emma ponders a bit.  
Emma: Well, yes actually  
Dalen: Could you tell us all about it?

Emma: Yes… As you can see things have changed a bit. After leaving to get my teacher's degree, I didn't have anywhere else to go. For my who life I lived in this tiny town, and just a few years after I wanted to leave so badly, I came back as a teacher. Part of me wanted to come back to make a change here, to see if I could improve the situations of people growing up here. Another part was that this was the only place that didn't feel alien to me. So… so much has happened to me, and it's difficult to separate myself from what happened.  
Emma looks down to the ground.  
Emma: It's an understatement to say I felt guilty for what happened. I was the only witness to all of it, and I had no power to change it. There has never been a time I've felt as vulnerable as when that… thing had its fingers wrapped around my body. Worst of all, no one believed me. They looked at all that happened and took me as delirious. They told me I was drugged, even though there were no tests to see if I was. They said I made it up all in my head, as I guess a coping mechanism. Some even tried to blame me for being part of the whole situation. That’s what kept me there. I felt I caused his death.  
Everything was silent. Emma began to slouch.  
Dalen: Would you like to have a minute to yourself.  
Emma: No  
Emma does her best to keep her composure.  
Emma: I’m ok  
Dalen: Just take your time, we have all day to record.  
Emma takes a slow and deep breath.  
Emma: Ok, so once I came back, each year on the day it happened, I would go to his grave to pay my respects. He never had a funeral. Nobody was found, and he had no family that mourned his death. Once the case closed, all goodwill the people had toward him had run dry. People became sour to it all. It took a long time for them to put up a tombstone in the Pastor's name, or so what my father told me. Yet once I came back, I was the only one to visit his grave. I sometimes brought flowers. It helped with the memories. It helped me think through it all. I felt like I could look back when I came to see him. I could cope, and the memories stayed, but they hurt less.  
Emma takes another huge breath.  
Emma: I still wonder if what I saw was real. I mean it felt real… I’m getting ahead of myself. One day when I went to visit him again, I heard a distinct sound. It sounded like a flute but almost hollow, it almost sounded like a whistle. It also in a sense felt like breathing. The sound reminded me I had a heartbeat, it even felt like a tempo to the slow sound. It was very misty that day, and I saw no cars other than mine. I went into the graveyard, the fog only allowing me to see a few feet in front of me. The damp air hitting my cheek and making me wince. It was foggy, that's what I'm trying to say. When I came close to his grave, I saw three people at the front of it. I was unable to see who they were, and they paid me no mind. I think they were so in the moment; they didn't notice my existence.

One of the men played the thing making that noise. It had a similar shape to a clarinet. It was warped with spikes protruding out of it, almost like a seashell or coral. The material it was made of seemed organic. The two other men stood completely still. One seemed to be whispering to himself, though I could not hear it over the sound. I stepped back, something told me that what was happening was none of my concern. Whatever minuscule sound they made, all three heard. I jumped, none of them said anything to me. When I tried to ask them something, something weird happened. They turned to mist. I don't know how else to describe it. It was like they just stopped existing. Like they were the fog the whole time, yet I just never noticed. The fog slowly cleared away, receding into the forest. I think that is all I can say about it. I have no idea what happened.  
Dalen looked away and sighed. The room became silent for a minute.  
Emma: Would you like to see where it happened, I’ll take you there?  
David: …We’d be happy to  
Interview ends  
The group stood at John Obed’s grave. David took a few panoramic shots and a close of the tombstone, and Trevor recorded the outside sounds. Dalen stood still, staring at the grave. It felt strange to be there. To see the end effect of one of these statements. People have died to whatever these things are, and it made him wonder how capable these things truly were at it. Emma saw that Dalen was bothered by this.  
“I know, feels a bit haunting right… I fully understand why” Emma said in a friendly tone “Still makes my skin crawl, wondering if it’s still out there”.  
Dalen wondered what would happen when they look further.  
How far do you have to crawl in the dark until you get bit?


End file.
